


After All This Time

by Vashti (tvashti)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 04:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvashti/pseuds/Vashti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are, once again, one of the only two friends I have.  Perhaps I am merely selfish, but I would not be parted from you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	After All This Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [igrockspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/gifts).



> I wasn't expecting to write for this prompt, not at all, but in typical Slytherin fashion Narcissa and Snape snuck in and became my main story. 
> 
> igrockspock, I do hope that you enjoy it. It's not what I was intending to do, but if it works for you then that's all that matters.

At first, Narcissa was interested in the greasy little git because that mudblood Evans was. Prissy, show off Gryffindor… Such an attitude from such a House was hardly to be tolerated in a pureblood, but a mudblood? From a suburb of Muggle London? No, it could not be borne.

At least Severus had the good manners to be halfblood. To be certain the House of Prince had fallen upon hard times in the last century or so, but it was still a noble one with a noble lineage that oughtn’t further sully its name with an association to a mudblood like Evans. Even if she was…bright…and perhaps...pretty, in a rather dark and dull sort of way. Her real only redeeming feature were those green eyes. Narcissa had caught more than one young wizard trying to catch a glimpse of them, including those of her own House. Including Lucius Malfoy.

Though she herself didn’t associate with Severus as he was so very far beneath her, she knew from their housemates that he was brilliant. More than once she’d heard someone wonder how he’d sorted Slytherin, despite being half a Prince. Then he’d do something vicious and underhanded—sometimes against a rival house, sometimes against one of their own—making the reasoning behind the Sorting Hat’s selection very clear.

It did not, however, explain the mudblood Evans’ association with him. True, it seemed to have cooled as they matriculated through Hogwarts, but neither truly shunned the other.

Narcissa was not the only one who noticed them together. “They are quite wicked together, aren’t they?” Bella said, standing by her side, her hand clasping her sister’s behind their backs as they watched Severus and Evans walk the grounds from a distance. “Someone ought to fix that, don’t you think?” Bellatrix bent her dark head towards Narcissa. Two years older, Bella was only a little taller than the fair-haired Narcissa.

It didn’t take much for Cissy, as her sister called her, to look Bella in the eye. “You’re trying to push me.”

Bella pouted. “Only a little. It isn’t as if you don’t want to go. Just to keep _that_ from happening.” Squeezing her sister’s hand almost painfully, she leaned in closer. “Imagine if they were to get together…to marry…to have _children_. What does one call a child whose only got a quarter of magical blood?”

Standing so close, Narcissa couldn’t see the sneer twisting her sister’s lips, but she could hear it against her hair and feel it in the tightening of Bella’s grip. She didn’t bother to mention that such a child would be considered to be fully magical by many, despite the parents’ own muddy heritage. She knew exactly what her sister meant, even if she didn’t fully agree with it. Bella had pegged her aright. Just to keep _that_ from happening, she was seriously considering befriending Slytherin House’s own greasy bat.

Grip loosening as she sensed victory, Bella slipped behind her sister so that she could rest her chin on Narcissa’s shoulder. Their skulls touched through their light and dark hair, just as their hands and arms were linked and interwoven. Narcissa’s arms tingled with the phantom fullness of Andromeda’s absence. “Think of it this way, Cissy," Bella said, "at least you can teach him the wonders of personal hygiene, since Evans seems to be remiss.”

“Probably doesn’t understand the concept herself,” Narcissa said softly, somewhat automatically. Though they were both thoughtful, she knew that her sister’s eyes were wide with imaginings that she, Narcissa, didn’t care to share. Her own expression was quite closed off. One of many ways they were together and yet not at all the same.

A breeze picked up. Skimming over the lake, it brought with it the scent of water and the things going to rot under the water.

 

***

 

At first, she’d been interested in Slytherin House’s resident bat because of the interest that Gryffindor mudblood showed in him. Which, of course, her tricky, tricky sister had exploited for ends that better satisfied _her_ —and also Narcissa, were she to be honest. She was sure, however, that while she had designs on keeping Severus away from Evans, Bella was inclined to have something more deleterious in nature happen to the mudblood. Losing Severus’ companionship and access to his brilliance, while setting Evans in her place, was more than enough for Narcissa.

“What do you want?” Severus asked her as she sat beside him on a stone bench under one of the winter-bare non-magical trees on the grounds.

Narcissa raised a blond brow. “What do you think I want?”

He eyed her through a tangle of slick hair. “If I had the faintest idea, I wouldn’t bother to ask. Don’t you have someone’s boot heels to lick?”

“The way you lick L—?” She quickly swallowed Evans’ name, saying instead “Lucius’?”

“Funny, I’d thought those boots were yours to lick.”

Inwardly she rolled her eyes, grateful that she’d changed the name. To Severus, she said, “You will never see any member of the House of Black bend and scrape to another.” Her chin had risen of its own accord, and though she was sure she looked silly with her nose in the air—their Aunt Walburga always did when she said these sorts of things—it was precisely the sort of statement that called for looking down one’s nose upon another.

Severus chuckled, a warm, dark sound that was much older and bleaker than any sound coming out of someone their age should be. Even she knew that.

He turned from her and returned to his studies. “Everyone has to bend and scrape to someone,” he muttered.

Narcissa stiffened. “Come again?”

Seeming not at all put off by the chill in her voice, he calmly looked up from is studies, pushing his lank and dismal hair from his face. “Everyone—has to bend—and scrape—to someone. Everyone.”

He said it without malice. He said it without sarcasm or irony. He merely repeated his words to her. Still she pushed herself up from the stone, hot and flush with her offense even in the chill air. Pointing one long, trembling finger at him, “Bend and scrape? If everyone is to do it, then so shall you, Severus Snape, long before I and long after I have brushed the dust from my knees!”

Spinning on the heels of her ankle boots, she stormed off, feeling as if her anger must surely be shooting off sparks with every step.

Later, much later when her husband was dead and her son was fighting for his freedom, she would wonder if perhaps one of them had a gift of the sight, if only for that cold afternoon under an unmoving tree.

 

***

 

What had begun, at first, as a way to pries from Evans something that made the little mudblood happy turned into...something else. Yes, Bella had tried to twist her into it, but if Narcissa were honest she’d already been halfway to approaching Severus anyway. She’d heard from the boys that he had his uses, that he was brilliant and vicious. They talked about him like a particularly smart hound, or perhaps like something a little less than that. But that wasn’t how the mudblood treated him.

"Come back for more?" he said without raising his head as she sat across from him at their House table during one of their free periods. "Our time together last week wasn’t rousing enough for you?"

"It was only four days ago."

He looked up then, greasy hair falling away in thick, lank clumps. It looked dirty. It always looked dirty. "Four days ago was last week." Canting his head to one side like a great black bird, he said, "Come for tutoring then?"

Under the table, Narcissa clenched her hands into fists and silently counted to fifty in Latin.

“I find counting in Sumerian works better.”

Her eyes flashed and her jaw clenched. “I shall count in whichever language I choose if it helps me to be civil to you.”

That peaked his interest. “Whyever would you want to be civil to me?”

“I’m beginning to wonder that very thing. If you will excuse me.” Narcissa pushed herself up and out the bench seat. The little mudblood could have him and gladly. Why she was messing about in the affairs of underclassmen, she hadn’t the foggiest.

“Narcissa, wait."

But she was done with her foolishness. If the halfblood wanted to sully himself with a mudblood, so be it. He wasn’t worthy of the Prince name, or her time. That much was obvious. Bella would simply have to find another project as she’d not be party to--

"Please, Narcissa..."

She turned under the heavy hand on her shoulder. Severus stood behind her, appearing quite out of sorts.

"...allow me to apologize."

She arched a brow. "Whyever should I?"

"Because I am not in the habit of receiving...pleasant conversation that doesn’t have an ulterior motive."

Narcissa sniffed. "I do have an ulterior motive."

"Oh." Severus’ hand fell away.

"There is a charms assignment--"

He took a step back. "So it is tutoring, then."

"--and I must have a partner. But as I am currently Hogwarts’ best charms student I refuse to have a partner less capable than myself."

Severus frowned. "I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Do you want tutoring or not? Or am I to do the assignment for you?"

Narcissa scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Have you not been listening? I thought you were one of the best minds in Slytherin. _I_ am best charms student this school has and I need an equally excellent _partner_."

"You’re...asking me to be your partner?"

Both of Narcissa’s eyebrows climbed.

"You realize we’re not in the same year?"

"No, Severus, I hadn’t. I’ve been spending the entirety of my time at Hogwarts wondering why you haven’t been sitting any of our classes," she said dryly.

He chuckled. "And how do you plan on making this happen?"

Narcissa felt herself puff up. "As if Filius Flitwick could dare deny a Black anything she deemed necessary."

 

***

 

It was, in fact, a bit of a fight convincing Professor Flitwick to allow her to partner with someone outside her year. Not that it was entirely his fault. The Headmaster felt the need to interfere, although she hadn’t the faintest idea why. She was doing them all a service, taking Severus away from that mudblood witch. While waiting to get a final verdict on her plan, she’d taken to watching how he interacted with Evans. Sometimes it seemed cordial enough, but often she was as rude to him as any of the roughnecks in Slytherin. Certainly _her_ friends among the Gryffindors could scarcely tolerate him and rarely did.

She was doing them all a favor. Really, she ought to be rewarded.

She and Severus were allowed to proceed finally. If it did well, Narcissa would be awarded a pass grade for the assignment and Severus would have earned the points for Slytherin. If it did poorly, Narcissa would have failed the assignment and Severus would lose points for Slytherin, the exact number to be determined by how poorly the assignment did. Narcissa was more than confident in their ability to finish well.

However, within days of beginning the assignment, Narcissa discovered a rather disconcerting truth about Severus. He was funny. True, he was unlikely to inspire loud, riotous laughter, but that was the last thing she could have wanted to be seen doing.

During their time together his running commentary of others in the spare rooms and labs they frequented to perfect their charms-work kept her smiling and chuckling into their notes. Severus wasn’t nearly as fun when she was the object of his vicious wit, but even that he learned to twist until she was, in fact, laughing at herself and didn’t mind doing so. More than once, Narcissa wondered that he wasn’t friendly with more Ravenclaws. The House of Black was not unfamiliar with Ravenclaw House. Those driven by pure logic often saw the truth in differences between purebloods and all others. If you wanted to make a smart, sensible, fertile marriage match, have a witch who’d started her education under Rowena Ravenclaw’s watchful eagle-eye do the matchmaking. And Ravenclaw matchmakers were nothing if not known for their sharp tongues. The uninitiated were surprised as Ravenclaws usually kept their wicked rapport within the House, but once past school age they no longer felt thus constrained.

Narcissa felt like one of those anxious parents, gobsmacked to discover the dangerous mouth of a Ravenclaw they remembered as being quiet and mousy, hand permanently stuck in the air—except her "mouse" was Severus. It was an imperfect comparison, to be sure, as he was neither quiet nor mousy, and he rarely put his hand in the air. But she was surprised, shocked even, as she spent her hour with him with a smile ever-emerging on her face.

She was enjoying herself.

 

***

 

"My dear Narcissa..."

Lucius Malfoy’s voice could be almost touchable when he chose to wield it in that way. He used it to his advantage, of course—as well he should as the scion of House Malfoy—but Narcissa knew better than to be lulled by it. She’d seen that particular tone, the touchable one, was used to seduce, to distract, to coax out information that would otherwise remain hidden, or to lull his victims before a fatal blow.

"...I feel as if I haven’t seen you in some time."

Narcissa looked up from her text into Lucius’ pale eyes. "That’s not surprising as you’re a year ahead of me," she said with equanimity.

"True." Lucius dropped into the winged armchair beside her own. "But it would seem that I haven’t seen you in the common room or in the library." He lazily reached across the space between them as if to take the book in her hands.

Making no move to stop him, she said, "You’re seeing me right now."

Lucius chuckled, but Narcissa could tell from the way he jerked the textbook from her hands that she’d perhaps gone a step too far.

It was possible she’d been spending too much time with Severus.

"Indeed, I am," Lucius said, his voice less sensual. "I’m surprised, however. I thought we had been getting along so well lately."

Narcissa smiled, plying her own skills. Leaning towards him, elbow on the chair-arm closest to Lucius, she said, "And we are. I must apologize if I have truly been remiss in my attentions. I have been busy." She gestured to the book, a Charms text, in his hands. "As you can see."

"Ah, yes...Charms." Lucius closed the book to its cover, turning it over in his long-fingered hands. "There is one place I have seen you."  
"If that’s so, then why this sudden interest? Surely if you’ve seen me about school I haven’t been anywhere so private as to preclude speaking."

"I did not think that you would want your tutoring with Snape to be interrupted."

Narcissa’s eyebrows rose. "Tutoring?"

"Why, yes." Shrugging, Lucius said, "As you were both in an empty classroom at the time, heads bent over books and scrolls, I could only assume that young Snape was tutoring you. Was I wrong?"

Narcissa was sure that Lucius was purposefully provoking her, but she couldn’t help bristling at his words. "Me? Narcissa Black, asking for Charms tutoring?"

"Ah, is that what your two heads were bent over? What irony." Lucius made a sound that Narcissa couldn’t define, but managed to prod her nonetheless. "I admit, I was rather surprised to see the two of you together. Why, I even heard you laughing with the halfblood."

Narcissa arched a single eyebrow. "And what of it? Does laughter now equate itself with mental incompetence?"

Smiling, Lucius said, "No, of course not. Actually..." He turned her book over in his hands again. He flipped open the cover. "Actually, I thought you might be showing a personal interest in him."

Narcissa scoffed. "Ah, now I see it. Are you jealous, Lucius Malfoy, of a halfblood?"

He sniffed.

"I think you are."

"As if I could be jealous of a halfblood Prince who does not even use his true family name."

Narcissa harrumphed, sure that she had found the reason behind their conversation. Reaching across the space between them, she held out her hand for her textbook. "No need to worry, Lucius. My intentions are pure."

Now his eyebrows were up. "Is that so?"

"Oh yes. I intend to save our poor halfblood from the clutches of that mudblood witch who seems to hang about him all the time. I see by your expression that you know the witch I’m speaking of. Tell me, have you seen them together since I’ve taken him under my wing?"

"No."

"See there. I’ve done a great service to Slytherin House, protecting one of its best from the filthy clutches of a dirty Gryffindor mudblood."

Instead of putting the book in her hand, Lucius set it on the small table before them so that he could take her hand and kiss it. "Aren’t you a clever witch."

Narcissa smiled.

 

***

 

At first, when Narcissa made up her mind to befriend Severus Snape it was with the intention of getting him away from the grasping Gryffindor mudblood he so inexplicably attached to. For all that he was brilliant with potions, surely the Evans girl had slipped something into his pumpkin juice during a Hogsmeade outing as he always seemed to gravitate to her. Such attentiveness spoke ill of a noble house such as Prince had once been and Slytherin continued to be. Narcissa was doing them all a favor. Bella had also seen his affliction and had encouraged Narcissa in her goal. Certainly it was better that she, Narcissa, moved to sunder the relationship that Bellatrix—who would likely try to sunder a good many other things in the process.

Yes, the tearing away of Severus Snape from the grasp of Lily Evans had been Narcissa’s primary and stated goal. And it worked. As she’d told Lucius only a few hours earlier, Severus was rarely to be seen in the Evans girl’s company lately. Between his studies, their project, and the various tasks others in their House put him up to, he was far too busy to either entertain or be seduced by a mudblood. Plus he seemed to see the benefit of keeping company with a pureblood. Their time together had been fruitful and humorous…comfortable even.

Then why was he so cold today? What was different? What had changed? Almost from the moment of Severus’ acceptance of her proposal that he work with her, they had gotten along very well. _I do, in fact, know how to be civilized. I simply find it incredibly rare to be in company that is deserving of such civility._

He could even be charming.

But today? Today Severus was none of those things. He hardly spoke at all, and when he did his comments were either clinical or eviscerating—twice they managed to be both.

Narcissa couldn’t take it anymore. “What is the matter with you? If you’ve had another row with that group from Gryffindor I would appreciate it if you would refrain from taking it out on me.”

Severus sniffed. “While I have indeed had a ‘row with that group from Gryffindor’ I promise I am taking nothing out on you.”

Narcissa slowly lowered the object she was working with and raised a brow. “Then, pray tell me, what I have done to deserve such treatment from you. Or are you merely being nasty for the sake of it?”

“You have done nothing except be yourself—“

Narcissa sniffed. “Then you are merely nasty."

“No!” Severus rounded on her, straightening to his rather more impressive height. “Now I am informed!”

“And what does that mean?” Narcissa asked, standing her ground. She would not back down. She would not bow, as he’d said of her that day under the winter-dead tree.

“Why didn’t you partner with Lily Evans of Gryffindor if you are able to have your pick of partners? If you are the ultimate in Charms then she is the penultimate. Would she not have made a better choice?” he asked with a silky intonation was wholly unlike Lucius’ but, Narcissa suspected, used for some of the same purpose.

Still she held firm. “I would never partner with a mudblood!”

“And so the entire _raison d’être_ of our partnership is so you might keep yourself pure?”

Narcissa knew she was now treading thinly, but persevered anyway. “Not the entire reason, but a significant one.”

“You lie just like a Slytherin,” he hissed

“As you are also one, I can’t imagine why you are surprised!” she hissed back. “Just because she has somehow gotten you under her spell doesn’t mean I wish to be so entranced. Her friends despise and abuse you—“

“The young swains of Slytherin are only marginally better.”

“At least they recognize your brilliance, even if they are too stupid now to respect it as they should. I was attempting to save you from further degradation.”

“Being friends with Lily is not a degradation!” he roared.

Narcissa stepped back.

“And until our partnership for this inane project, she was the first person who was genuinely kind to me—my first friend,” he bit out. Then the tension fell from his shoulders like a discarded cloak, though anger still colored his features. “I suppose she still is. Good day, Narcissa.”

Severus turned on his heel and swept out of the empty classroom they’d been using, pausing only long enough to stuff his belongings into his school bag.

Narcissa waited until after he had gone to swear, and loudly. Somehow he had found out.

 

***

 

Two days later, she found him sitting on a different stone bench, under a different winter-dead tree. Unlike that first meeting, there was a strong, steady breeze the liked to kick up debris as it brought with it the first warm stirrings of spring. Trees all around Hogwarts whipped about as if they were each magical kin to the Whomping Willow. Narcissa wasn’t the only young woman she’d seen who had braided her hair tightly against her head to keep it from flinging itself into her eyes or mouth. The breeze managed to win that battle after a few moments of walking, however, and so she spent much time dragging fine blond tangles from her face.

Narcissa made sure to stand so that her shadow fell over the book in Severus’ hands.

Snarling, he dragged his head up from the text. “What do you—Oh. You. Come to demand that we finish the project, have you?”

Narcissa sniffed. “Complex though it may be, have no doubt that at this point I could finish it quite successfully on my own. No, that isn’t why I’ve come at all.”

“Simply to trouble me, then? There is, generally speaking, a prescribed time and place for doing so. Out here,” he said, sketching a wide circle with one hand, “on the backside of the castle where none can witness your clever tortures is not it. Generally speaking, an audience is preferred.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes, annoyed and amused as well. He mocked her and mocked himself, only hinting at the dry humor she’d come to admire. “I’ve not to trouble you, either, although I am sure you find me troublesome.”

Severus snorted.

“I have come to…” Narcissa took a deep breath, her nose rising into the air. “I have come to apologize.”

“Oh my. An apology from on high. Shall I get down on my knees to kiss the feet of the benevolent goddess who bestows such gifts on poor wretches like me?”

“You can, if you wish, but I shall only laugh. And I would still have to wait for your response. It all seems rather tedious.”

He snorted again, but Narcissa rather thought he was trying to hide a laugh.

Encouraged, she went on. “I have, perhaps, misjudged your relationship with the mudblood.”

“You will not call her that. Not if you are planning to go through with this poor excuse for an apology.”

Narcissa’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. Your relationship with _Evans_ is not quite what I presumed. I apologize for thinking otherwise.”

Severus shrugged.

“I still hold that it is an ill-advised friendship, if not actually ill-fated, but if it is your only one, and if it is what has made you even halfway bearable all these years, who am I to protest?” Narcissa held up a hand when he made as if to speak. “Do not answer. I am familiar with you now. I can almost guess what you would say.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. At least I think so. Now then, do you accept my apology? Can we be friends again?”

Severus’ eyebrows climbed. “You wish to be friends. In fact?”

“There’s nothing you can do for me Severus. Nothing tangible at least. I am more than capable enough, intellectually. My family is more highly regarded and financially more sound than yours. I am well liked by students and faculty alike.”

“Not all students.”

“By the ones who matter,” she quickly countered with a sly smile. “The ones who matter to me, at least. I don’t care if your mud—“ She quickly bit back the word at his sharp look. “—muggle friends like or dislike me. Our circles do not cross.”

“And if they ever did?”

She shrugged. “I doubt they shall, but I suppose I’ll make the best of it if ever they do. So…do you accept my apology?”

“You never said why you wanted to be friends.”

Narcissa shrugged again. “Do I truly need a reason? You have a brilliant mind, a wit that can be sharp and dangerous but is not necessarily so, and, as far as I know, you do not want me for any of those grand tangibles that I have already listed.”

“You’re quite pretty.”

Chuckling, Narcissa said, “So my end of the friendship shall be based on respect and your side shall be based on shallow attraction? Is that how it is to be?”

“Do you mind?”

Narcissa rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ah, what’s one more admirer? Perhaps Lucius will learn that he will actually have to _work_ for my affections and not merely assume them.”

“Are you truly interested in Malfoy? He can be a great git, you know.”

“I think he’d say the same of you.”

“Yes, but you already know what you’re getting when you associate with me. I make no secret of my wretched personality.”

She shrugged. “Then he’s merely living up to House standards by hiding his. So are we friends then?” She stuck out a hand, anxiously waiting to see if he would take it. For all their surprisingly easy banter, it would be just like him to dismiss her with a cutting turn of phrase that she could have never guessed at.

Reluctantly, Severus extended a hand. “Of a sort.”

She shook it, marveling at his rough, worn skin, already callused and uneven from work. “Of a sort,” she agreed.

 

***

 

"What are we doing here, Mother?"

Narcissa brushed her son’s hands away. "What do you think we’re doing, Draco. We’re seeking sanctuary."

"By why _here_?"

Narcissa’s rounded on her son. "And have you a better place? Have one of your friends stepped up to offer you succor while we build your defense? Have any of the families with which we were previously associated brought us into their homes? _No!_ " she hissed. "No one has come to our defense! We have received more compassion from Potter than any of those who once called us friend."

Turning her back on Draco, Narcissa tugged at the hem of her peplum jacket and ran her hands down her sleeves. Straightening her shoulders, she refused to look again at the very pedestrian Muggle neighborhood. There was nothing to set it apart from any other non-magical neighborhood in England, and if not for the man living in it she would declare it beneath her notice.

Narcissa knocked on the modern wood door. It seemed terribly plain to her eye.

"But, Mother--"

Narcissa whipped around. "Draco Lucius Malfoy! Severus Snape has been better to this family than this family has been to him, and after all that he has done for use we’ve no right ask even this much of him!"

"I think I’ll be the judge of that."

The silky voice had her stumbling as she turned, so that only her son’s grip on her arms kept her upright. "Severus."

"Narcissa. Draco." He inclined his head to them both. "What, pray tell, can I do for the House of Malfoy this time?"

When she’d considered going to Severus for help she’d planned out everything, from the clothes she and Draco would wear to how she would phrase her request. Now that he stood before her, every word went flying out of her head as if drawn out by the wand of another. "We need your help."

He raised an imperious brow. "Again."

"Yes." She ignored the break in her voice. "Please, Severus. I know I’ve already asked too much of you, but we need shelter."

"And what of Malfoy Manor? As I understand, it is still in your possession."

"But our funds are bound so tightly we might as well live in a shack. I’ve had to let the house elves go for their own good." She swiped a hand across her eyes, and another at Draco’s grasping hands, refusing to look anywhere except Severus’ stony expression. "Although I’m not unconvinced one has followed us."

"Oh goody."

Narcissa swiped at her eyes again. "Please, Severus, just a place to stay, to regroup, until we can solidify Draco’s defense before the Wizengamot. When that is won and access to our funds are restored--"

"You’ll what? Pay me back?"

"Be out of your hair at the very least," she said with a small, watery smile. "Please, Severus..." Narcissa dropped to her knees. "I’m begging."

"Mother!"

"Leave me be, Draco!" she snapped in return. "Where else shall we go and to whom shall we turn if not here? You act as if I have not done worse for this family...for you. I would rather abase myself before Severus Snape than serve as hostess for another Dark Lord."

There was a rustle of fabric as Severus said, "Listen to your mother, Draco. She speaks wisely. Everyone must bow to someone at some time." He said it evenly, without sarcasm or guile. "It is simply how life is. If you hadn’t learned this lesson from your time as a Death Eater, then all of your mother’s efforts, and many of my own, have been wasted."

Narcissa couldn’t see what her son did, but his reluctant, "Yes, sir," was good enough for her.

"I will give you the shelter that you seek. Now help your mother to stand. And quickly. We shall rouse the neighbors with our maudlin display."

For the first time, Narcissa allowed Draco to manage her as he helped her up. She reached for the edge of Severus jacket as he stepped aside to let them in. "Thank you, Severus. Thank you."

Ignoring her, he directed Draco to bring her to the kitchen near the rear of the house. Once she was settled, and reasonably done with her crying, Severus sent Draco upstairs to clear the one guest bedroom and fashion another, smaller, one out of what was currently a long, narrow linen closet. "Or can’t you manage?"

"I can."

"Then get to it and don’t dawdle. Your mother needs you."

"Yes, sir."

Narcissa listened to the exchange as she continued crying softly into the handkerchief that had appeared in her hands. Whether it was Severus’ or Draco’s she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t realized how emotionally exhausted she was, not entirely. It felt as if she had not sat for days.

The handkerchief was slowly drawn from her hands. She looked up at Severus. "Here," he said, pressing a cool glass into her hands. "To replace what you have lost."

"Thank you."

An inelegant snort was her response, but that only caused her to smile. With the glass in hand, she could look at Severus. He was not as he had been in his youth. He was not even as he had been before the start of the most recent war. Nagini’s vile poison had hurt him, doing terrible things to his musculature that even magic had a hard time repairing. Robes hid much of the damage, but in the Muggle clothing that he wore in this his Muggle neighborhood, it was easy to see the physical toll the war had taken. By all regards, he should not even be alive, and having lived he should not be able to stand. Yet he did that and more.

He had promised to give her and Draco shelter.

Severus paused in his movements about the kitchen. “Really now, Narcissa, I don’t seem to remember you as a faucet.”

“Yet such have I become.” She swiped at her eyes then took a lengthy swallow of the drink in her hands. She had expected water, but it was something thicker and sweeter that cooled and soothed her from within. Narcissa finished it quickly. “Thank you, Severus.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m sure I have.”

He snorted. “Then I am just as sure that you haven’t. A meal shall be prepared shortly.”

Shaking her head, Narcissa said, “You needn’t go through the trouble.”

Severus turned. “So I am to shelter you for an indeterminate time, and yet while I do so I am also to allow you to starve? I do believe we have wildly disparate definitions of the word ‘shelter’, Madame,” he said as he went back to his cooking. In less time than it took her to dry her eyes with cuff of her sleeve, he had their meal levitating toward the table at her back.

“Really, Severus…”

“Really nothing, Narcissa. I have promised my protection until such time as Draco faces the Wizengamot, which includes making sure you do not pass out from hunger.”

“An unlikely event.”

“If I am allowed to have my way, yes. As you insist on being unreasonable, perhaps I shall have young Draco transfigure an IV drip while he’s at it.”

Narcissa frowned. “An ivy drip? Whatever has that to do with feeding us?”

“An IV drip,” he said, approaching the table with the last dish floating before him, “is an abbreviated way of saying an intravenous drip. It is the way in which Muggle doctors supply nutrients directly into their patients’ bloodstream when they are unable, or unwilling, to feed themselves.”

Narcissa shuddered. “It sounds unpleasant.”

“It looks worse.”

Reaching up for the dish that was now nearly over her head, she pulled it out of Severus’ stream of magic and placed it directly behind her. When she turned around, Severus was kneeling at her feet so that they were nearly eye to eye. “Narcissa,” he said softly, as if he were afraid Draco or the wayward house elf would hear, “I have promised to care for you. I am no longer in the habit of making promises lightly or ignorantly, as well you know.”

She nodded.

“I shall take the care of you and the boy quite seriously. I no more wish to see him sent to Azkaban, or worse, than do you. I’ve no wish to see you hurt any more than you have already been.”

“All the results of my own actions.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. But it is time for us all to move on, wouldn’t you say?”

She nodded.

Severus took her hands, and she was surprised by the strength in his sinewy grip. “It’s been more than a year since Lucius’ death in battle, and you have not stopped moving since then. When will you take the time to breathe, Narcissa?”

“I’m afraid I no longer know how.”

“Then let me show you. Let me provide for you a space in which it safe to merely _be_.”

Narcissa shuddered, but refused to cry…not anymore. “Why are you being so kind to us, Severus? You have lost so very much because of this family.”

“All the results of my own actions,” he said, parroting her words back to her.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

“I helped you before because we were friends. Of a sort.”

She smiled. “You said then that your side of our friendship was based purely on shallow things. You said I was quite pretty.”

Loosing one of his hands, he reached up and ran a hand through her hair. “And so you were.”

“Not so much anymore. I would more charitably be called handsome.”

“You remain quite pretty. At least in my eyes.”

Bowing her head, she tightened her grip in his. “I don’t know how to repay such kindness. I knew how to repay Potter—I gave him back his life—but I have nothing to give you.”

Severus angled himself so that he could meet her eyes under the curtain of her pale hair. “Stay and allow us to become more than sort of friends.”

“I don’t know… Lucius… I did love him.”

“I know. Stay long enough to find out if you can.”

“And if I can’t?”

“You are, once again, one of the only two friends I have. Perhaps I am merely selfish, but I would not be parted from you.”

Narcissa stared at him, unsure of what to say. Instead she watched in silence as he raised himself so that their foreheads touched…and he brushed the end of his nose against hers…and his lips.

 

[in]Fin[ite]

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my dear friend, Arja, for doing a read-through for me. I'd be about 3 times more nervous about this than I am without her input. Also a thank you shout-out to Jagwaarx for holding my hand through the posting process as AO3 tried to do not nice things to me.


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